Music and Mayhem charts the immersive and explosive life of one of Ireland’s most important musicians, and the golden decade of Irish music he was at the very centre of.

Keith Donald’s story begins in Unionist east Belfast, hurtling through vivid memories of a childhood as a musical prodigy, first performing at the BBC aged ten. His story takes him to the classics department of Trinity College Dublin in the early 60s, a hotbed of new ideas, before he becomes enveloped in the beauty of tenor sax. Jazz clubs by night and studying classics by day, Donald soon felt the early onset alcohol addiction, fueld by childhood PTSD. From university he joined the booming showband scene with The Federals in Belfast and The Greenbeats in Dublin, touring the dancehalls and marquees of the Irish country.

The 70s saw Donald building a music career in Dublin and Europe, coping with addiction, a crumbling marriage, and forging a separate life as a qualified social worker. It was the 1980s however, when his greatest breakthrough came to pass withthe formation of the Celtic rock supergroup Moving Hearts. With the Hearts Donald was manager, star performer and inspiration, alongside bandmates including Christy Moore and Donal Lunny. Their fusion of jazz, rock and traditional music created the soundtrack of an era and paved the way for a generation of Irish musicians.

Signed by the author.

A very moving, intimate and courageous story of my friend Keith’s journey through life and music.

-- Davy Spillane

A quietly absorbing memoir … A sobering read … In part an autobiography, public apology, and sermon, it reads like Keith Donald played: free-form, instinctive, and visceral … Donald is a terrific storyteller with a finely-tuned sense of the absurd … Balances the dark realities of addiction with a battery of scarcely believable yarns … What sets Music and Mayhem apart is that it is one of only a handful of testimonials that counter the partisan narratives and laze cliches that dominate its telling … By refusing to yield to cheap nostalgia and instead telling what at times is a brutal story, he has done himself – and history – no little service.

-- Colm O'Callaghan, Irish Examiner